


Pretty?

by ElotheFairy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Iwa Chan is having problems and Oikawa helps out, M/M, Maki and Mattsun are only in this for a short while, Mostly Canon Compliant, Mostly Fluff, Short Story, Slow Burn, might change title later on idk, sorry - Freeform, they're still underage so dont expect smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElotheFairy/pseuds/ElotheFairy
Summary: “Wow…I still can’t believe it, Iwa-chan. Auntie invited me to be in alegitfashion show,” Oikawa beams happily and puts his arms behind his head, leaning back in his seat. “I mean, a fashion show for teenagers since she makes clothing for that particular age group-butstill!” he raises a finger in the air, matter-of-factly, “I get to be featured as one of her star models! I think I’ll be put in somewhere near the end. Pretty cool, huh?”Iwaizumi stares grumpily ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel of his truck a little too tightly. “Sure, Shittykawa.”A/N: What happens when Iwaizumi admits that he's jealous of his best friend?i.e., Oikawa's in for one hell of a trip.A four part story.





	1. Part 1. "When your best friend ropes you into a road trip..."

PART 1

“Wow…I still can’t believe it, Iwa-chan. Auntie invited me to be in a _legit_ fashion show,” Oikawa beams happily and puts his arms behind his head, leaning back in his seat. “I mean, a fashion show for teenagers since she makes clothing for that particular age group-but _still!_ ” he raises a finger in the air, matter-of-factly, “I get to be featured as one of her star models! I think I’ll be put in somewhere near the end. Pretty cool, huh?”

Iwaizumi stares grumpily ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel of his truck a little too tightly. “Sure, Shittykawa.”

* * *

Iwaizumi didn’t originally want to take Oikawa on this weekend trip, but Oikawa had convinced him, somehow. He thought back to the week before when Oikawa had rushed over to their usual table in the cafeteria, slammed his tray down and had announced his aunt’s invitation to the whole group.

Matsukawa raised his head up from where it was resting lazily against the palm of his hand. “Wait, whatdya mean?”

“Since when have you been interested in clothes?” Iwaizumi asked, popping a fry into his mouth.

Hanamaki nodded, “yeah bro, it’s not like you’ve ever considered that as an actual career choice. I mean what’s in it for you?”

Oikawa sat down, took off his schoolbag, and sighed. “It’s simple. I’m not. But think of how many girls I could get once they all find out I’m a model! I’ll be the talk of the town! I mean, I already _am_ pretty popular here. Why not share my good looks with the rest of Japan? It’s only fair.” He added the last sentence smugly, as if it was a simple conclusion that anyone could make just by looking at him.

“So where is this show again?” Mattsun asked.

“Don’t you dare say Tokyo,” Iwaizumi added.

Oikawa gave out a short laugh. “Oh don’t be ridiculous, my aunt’s line isn’t that popular yet. But it’s gonna be in Mito, so not too far from here.” He stared off ahead into the distance wistfully, then frowned slightly, “but Mom’s gonna be out of town this weekend helping with some school charity or something like that…” He thought for a few seconds, then immediately straightened up, turning to Iwaizumi.

“Uhm, _no._ ” Iwaizumi replied to Oikawa’s frantically pleading look.

“What??!"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa snickered, getting up to take their trays back. “Well tell us how that trip goes, Iwaizumi,” Mattsun said, trailing off after Maki.

“Iwa-chan, _please??_ It’ll be so much fun! It’ll be like a mini-road trip! You love road trips!”

Iwaizumi glowered at the brunette across from him. “I know you’re only asking me because you still don’t have your license.”

“Yeah well-that’s not the point here, the point is,” Oikawa let out a small huff, closed his eyes, and restarted, “This trip…this _show_ could be momentous to my high school career! Think of the girls, Iwa-chan! Think of how proud my aunt would be!” Oikawa grabbed Iwa’s shoulder and looked into his eyes, attempting to give him the most sincere, pleading expression, “Think of the home-cooked meals!!”

When that didn’t convince Iwaizumi, Oikawa slumped his shoulders and looked down at the table, trying to think of something. “Iwa-chan, ya know, there’s that new Godzilla movie coming out the weekend after this…,” Oikawa started, noting how Iwaizumi flitted his eyes towards him, still not speaking, “I guess we could go see it, if you wanted…” he trailed off, letting Iwaizumi piece it together.

“I am so gonna regret this…” Iwaizumi finally said.

“YES!” Oikawa exclaimed, balling his right hand into a triumphant fist. “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, this’ll be the best road trip ever!”

“Yeah, yeah, Shittykawa. You’re helping pay for gas.”

* * *

Oikawa’s voice snaps Iwaizumi back to the present. “-and of course they’ll be quick changes backstage, photographers, and I’ll be getting my own makeup table and chair! I mean, these people don’t fuck around, it’ll be super official-“

“Mmph.” Iwaizumi responds absently, trying to put on a neutral face.

“-of course none of the other models will hold a candle to yours truly. If I’m great at volleyball, who knows what else I’m good at-“

Iwaizumi wants to be happy for him. He does. No, he _is_ \- happy and excited for him, in his own way. But something deep down keeps bothering him. He doesn’t know exactly what it is, all he knows is that Oikawa has been on this subject for the past hour now and if he doesn’t shut up soon Iwaizumi might have to throw him out the window.

“-and I mean I knew I was good looking and all, but _damn_ , model status? I mean I honestly should’ve seen this coming like-“

Iwaizumi interrupts Oikawa’s endless stream of talking, “Oh yeah Shittykawa, another chance to have an even more inflated ego, can’t wait.” He throws out that last part sarcastically.

“Whatever do you mean Iwa-chan?” the brunette asks, oblivious to Iwaizumi’s growing headache, “It’s only right that the rest of Japan sees my natural beauty! Sorry that I just have a better fashion sense than you.” He sticks his tongue out at Iwaizumi, throwing up a peace sign.

“Oh yeah, sure, plaid shorts with a navy blue shirt and sweater that don’t even match. Got me there, fam.”

Oikawa snaps his eyes towards Iwaizumi, his face changing from a smug grin to visible annoyance. “Okay seriously?? Now you’re just being an ass…So mean…What crawled up your butt and died?”

 _“Alright, I’ve officially had enough.”_ Iwaizumi thinks to himself. His body reacts before he’s able to say anything else and he slams on the break, quickly moving onto the shoulder. Seconds later, the truck comes to a halt. Oikawa’s head hits the back of his seat and he gives Iwaizumi a look of anger, but it quickly turns into one of concern.

“What do you think, asshat?”

Oikawa is momentarily tempted to shoot back another snarky retort in response to that, but he knows Iwaizumi too well to not notice when something is actually bothering him. “Um…I don’t know? Are you upset that Etsuko from Class 2 confessed to me last week?…I politely declined her confession, if you were wondering about that-“

“I know that, dumbass.” Iwaizumi responds, with a little bit more calm demeanor to his voice.

“Then what’s the matter? Seriously, Hajime, I’m not a mind reader ya know…I can’t help you if you don’t even tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

Leaning his head back into his seat, Iwaizumi, lets out low sigh. “I just…” As he’s trying to come up with what to say, the thoughts he’s kept to himself for a while start bubbling up to the front of his mind. He picks through the myriad of sentences he could use to explain his current feelings, but the more he thinks about want he wants to say, the more everything seems stupid, dramatic, and ultimately superficial. He brings his thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of his nose. “No, ya know what, forget it, it really doesn’t matter.”

But Iwaizumi knows that once Oikawa thinks that he’s pissed him off, he’s not going to stop trying to figure out what’s bothering him. Sometimes it’s a blessing to have someone like that in your life, but this time it feels like a curse.

Oikawa leans forward closer to his best friend’s side. He knows that there must be a good reason Iwa-chan is avoiding the topic. Iwaizumi has never liked to make a big deal about his internal struggles in life. Whatever this is must be important.

Iwaizumi looks out the window of his truck, not knowing how to continue this conversation. It’s just…so stupid. _“Why am I so bothered by such a trivial thing??”_

A few awkward moments pass and then Oikawa gently pokes him in the shoulder. “Uhm, Iwa-chan….You know those things I said early when we were arguing….they were just jokes, yeah? But if it felt like they weren’t…then I’m truly sorry. I never meant to actually insult you… Are you…concerned about something that I was teasing you about?”

Iwaizumi huffs, “Tsk. No, Oikawa. It’s not any of that. I know I probably said a couple stupid things to you as well.” He turns resolutely and meets Oikawa’s gaze. “Okay. Ya know those times where random girls from the other team’s fan section will come up to you after the end of our games and ask you for autographs?”

Oikawa shrugs. “Yeah, why?”

Iwaizumi turns his head to look forward again. He couldn’t keep this conversation up if he had to look Oikawa in the eye at the same time. It was already embarrassing enough just thinking of the words. “Or those times at lunch when Maki and Mattsun are making a bunch of jokes, arguing about who’s the prettier one and it usually comes down between you and Suga from Karasuno?”

“Mr. Refreshing? I never regarded him as actual competition in the looks department but- Wait they actually do that? How I do not know about this??”

Iwaizumi shakes his head impatiently. “They talk about it when you get up to put your tray away. Now _please_ let me finish.”

“Sorry.” Oikawa adds quickly.

Iwaizumi takes another short breath and starts again. “Well, those things always happen to you and it’s cool and all but…sometimes…” He nervously runs a hand through the top of his spiky hair, a faint blush starting to dust his cheeks. “I just get…kinda jealous I guess.” He quickly finishes the last part of his sentence, praying Oikawa won’t laugh his ass off.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he sees the look of genuine surprise and slight confusion on Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa takes a minute to process what Iwaizumi’s just said, honestly taken aback. “You’re actually jealous? Of me? Like, being regarded as what? _Pretty?_ ”

Iwaizumi is suddenly aware of his entire face flushing up but is determined to try and salvage what’s left of this uncomfortable and weird conversation. This definitely would be on his top ten list of most uncomfortable conversations ever. Like, ever. Mandatory puberty conversations included. “Yes, fine, okay nerd?? I’m jealous of you. Everyone including _my own mother_ is always talking about how ‘you have such great bone structure’ and ‘oh, you’ll make such a fine husband one day!’ You ever notice how that never happens to me? I mean, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter and it’s such a stupid thing to make a big deal out of but _damn_ , for once I just want someone to regard me like they regard…you. I mean, shit, am I ugly or something??” He frantically turns to Oikawa towards the end of that sentence, gesturing to his own face.

Oikawa watches as his best friend turns toward him asking the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard in the entire universe. Even when Iwaizumi’s stressed, his black eyebrows knitting together, he still manages to look incredibly hot. His dark, intense eyes, the blush gathering across his glowing, tan face… it really should be a crime. “ _Get it together Tooru, that’s a thought you can linger over for later…”_

Oikawa laughs lightly and smirks at his friend. “Oh Iwa-chan. Trust me on this, you are _not_ ugly…Far from it actually.” Realizing that he’s been looking at Iwaizumi’s lips a second too long, he clears his throat and turns back to look out the front window. That was probably too much.

 _"You idiot,”_ he thinks to himself, _“Way to make yourself look like a thirsty bitch.”_ He just hopes Hajime doesn’t pick up on his brief flirtation.

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows as Oikawa finishes his remark. He’s suddenly very pulled into Oikawa’s wide, brown eyes, noting that his shining orbs are the same color as freshly turned-up soil on a spring day. “Uh, thanks Shittykawa,” he mumbles hoarsely.

“Well!” Oikawa smiles brightly, “Now that that conversation’s out of the way, do you mind getting back on the road? My aunt is still expecting us to show up in time for dinner ya know.”

Iwaizumi clears his throat awkwardly and leans forward towards the steering wheel. “Sure, sure.” He puts the car back into drive and quickly merges into the lane.

The two teenagers make their way along the scenic road, the sky now turning a light, dusty pink over the trees. It’s quiet for a while, but not altogether uncomfortable. Oikawa decides to put his earbuds in and stretches out his long legs over the front glove box area of the truck, watching the scenery whoosh by. Iwaizumi has one of their many mix CD’s playing softly in his stereo, silently mouthing along some of the lyrics here and there.

Oikawa keeps returning back to their most recent conversation in his mind. Although Iwaizumi looks more relaxed at this point in the trip and it seems that the small, faraway smile has returned to his face, Oikawa can’t help but think that Iwaizumi truly doesn’t grasp his own beauty. Sure, maybe only one or two girls have ever confessed to him since their first day of high school together, but that doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. High school is, after all, a very brief and insignificant time in a person life. Even Oikawa, the Grand King, knows that much.

“Fuck it.” Oikawa mutters, taking out one of his earbuds. He laughs softly to himself, looking down at his lap.

Iwaizumi’s ears automatically pick up on the curse word. “Hm?” he grunts.

“Look Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, still looking down, “I know you still probably don’t believe you’re pretty, but you are. Very much so. And I’m going to prove it to you because that’s just who I am.” He grins brightly at Iwaizumi for a couple of seconds, leans his head back against the seat, and closes his eyes.

Iwaizumi doesn’t quite know what to make of that. “Whatever you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it,” he states weakly.

Oikawa smiles, his eyes still closed, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun on his face. “Don’t worry… Just enjoy the trip and leave the rest to me.”

The offhand tone in his friend’s voice feels eerily cryptic for some reason. He knows Tooru would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. _“Still,”_ Iwaizumi shifts his right hand on the wheel, gripping the leather a little tighter, _“Oikawa does tend to have a flair for the dramatic.”_

END OF PART 1

* * *

A/N: Uhm, wow, I love iwaoi with all my heart and I don’t know why I haven’t done a one shot/short story on them in all my time reading fanfics! Just a short story I thought of a few days ago as I thought about how no one ever regards Iwaizumi as pretty, just handsome or a hunk, or whatever. Pretty and self-confident Iwa-chan for the win! If you ended up reading this far then please leave me a comment or a like to let me know what you think! Sorry if there are any grammatical errors in this, I don’t have a beta reader. I have more ideas for this short story so stay tuned! Oh, and if anyone wants a beta reader for their fic I am more than willing to help out for free! I actually love proofreading things and making creative suggestions for plot lines and stuff!


	2. Part 2. "Why is Hajime blushing...?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday turns into Saturday and the boys spend the day together. If this was an anime, it would totally be the beach episode.  
> Also sorry about the Jolene reference. It's such a meme I couldn't not include it lmao.

PART TWO

“That was such a great dinner, Auntie! I’m completely stuffed, right Iwa-chan?” Oikawa exclaims happily, his voice carrying through the small house in bright, musical tones.

Iwaizumi receives a short but painful jab to his side with Oikawa’s elbow. The movement almost makes him drop the dinner plate he’s scrubbing into the soapy water. He gives Oikawa a short, annoyed look before responding. “Yes, thanks so much!” he calls out hurriedly.

“Ohh it was no trouble at all boys,” Oikawa’s aunt says, gracefully gliding down the stairs in her long, summery-red pleated skirt.

Once Iwaizumi had met Oikawa’s aunt, her sophisticated and bubbly personality was one of the first things he noticed about her. She gave the boys a warm hug, welcomed them in, and immediately turned to Iwaizumi. “Now Iwaizumi dear, let’s do away with the formalities for now. Why don’t you just call me Hisako? Goodness knows all my colleagues already do.” Hisako waved her left hand air in a quick flourish and lead the boys into her house. She showed Oikawa and Iwaizumi to their room upstairs. “I’ll leave you two to unpack for a while. I’ve got to head back downstairs to finish up dinner. Feel free to join me whenever you boys are ready to eat!”

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Oikawa threw his duffel bag onto the ground, turning back to Iwaizumi proudly, “Mom says she’s a spitfire, but I like her a lot! She’s always been there for me, ya know?”

Iwaizumi considers Oikawa’s past words as he continues to work on the last of the dinner plates. It’s no surprise that Oikawa would like her. Hisako had a lot of qualities that reminded him of his best friend. Their determined attitudes and boundless energy were practically the same. No wonder Oikawa was so excited to make the trip up here.

Hisako calls out from the other room. “If you two are about done with the dishes, would you mind meeting me in the living room in a bit? I’d love to show you a few of my designs for the show on Sunday. Tooru, you also need to hear the rundown of the itinerary so you know what to expect.”

Once the boys get done cleaning up, they join Hisako on her pink and blue floral patterned couch. It’s a cozy fit with all three of them, Hisako on the far left, Iwaizumi on the far right, and Oikawa snugly in the middle.

Tucking a loose strand her wavy black hair behind her ear, Hisako reaches down to the side of the couch, picks up a thick shiny black binder and hands it to Oikawa to open. He carefully takes the huge binder from her and opens to one of the first tabbed pages.

“So for this particular show, since it’s still only my second one, I really wanted to focus on kids’ streetwear. I’ve noticed that a lot of students like to have clothing that’s still modern and practical, but also wear things that fit to their own unique sense of style…”

They spend the next half hour pouring through the thick and colorful pages of Hisako’s designs. Oikawa listens with keen interest as his aunt talks to them about her ideas and underlying concepts with model’s outfit. It seems like with each particular outfit and pattern, Hisako has a wonderful remark or funny story to recount on each model.

“You see now why I wanted you to join me on this project Oikawa? I really need students with strong personalities, since the show’s main concept is based around stories of youth. So, this is where you come in…”

Oikawa lounges back while he listens to his aunt talk about what she has planned for his design. He loves hearing about Hisako’s stories and inspiration behind everything, but he can’t help but wonder if Iwaizumi is starting to feel a little left out. Carefully, out of the corner of his eye, he slowly and surreptitiously directs his gaze to Iwaizumi. With Hisako’s voice still in the background, he puts his hearing on autopilot for a few moments while he stares at his best friend.

Iwaizumi now has his knees brought up to his chest, his hands wrapped around them as he gazes down at the sketch of Oikawa’s proposed design for the show. Oikawa’s breath hitches as he scans Iwaizumi’s face. There’s a fondness to the boy’s dark eyes, his lips are slightly pursed. It reminds Oikawa of how Iwaizumi used to look at him when they were children. But there’s also something else to it… With a confused realization, it dawns on him. Iwaizumi looks like he’s concentrating on something. Like he’s _drinking in_ the design on Hisako’s drawing, trying to memorize the curve of each pencil marking, of each splotch of color on the roughly sketched pattern. Iwaizumi’s left hand reaches down to feel the small piece of fabric stapled onto the bottom right corner of the page. Oikawa catches his eye once Iwaizumi turns to pretend to look at Hisako.

Iwaizumi clenches the back of his jaw once he realizes Oikawa’s caught him staring. The pair lock eyes for a second. The light brown irises of Oikawa fixate on his own, like a curious tiger pup. Iwaizumi ducks his head down towards his lap, knowing that the heat traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks are definitely noticeable. _“Stupid idiot…”_ he thinks.

Goosebumps appear on Oikawa arms as he slowly averts his eyes. _“Weird…Why did Hajime blush just now?”_

Guess he’d have to tackle that question later.

* * *

*Saturday*

“Here you go!” Hisako sings out, beaming down at Iwaizumi and Oikawa, setting down a plate of pancakes and two tall glasses of strawberry-and-kewi smoothies in front of them. “Now, Tooru, dear, just so you know, I’m gonna be out at the office in town for the majority of this afternoon and the evening, so you’ll have to be in charge of making sure this young man,” she gestures to Iwaizumi, “gets fed a good dinner, okay? There’s a nice little market about a few miles still outside of town that you two can drive over to pick up whatever you’d like. I’d make dinner for you both but I need to stay late at the studio tonight so we can finish paperwork and make any last minute adjustments before the show tomorrow.”

Oikawa nods eagerly and salutes his aunt, “Of course Auntie, you can count on me! Can’t wait to see my outfit in person tomorrow, I bet it’ll make all the girls swoon!”

Hisako lets out a sparkling laugh, “Oh, I’m sure, Tooru.” She puts her breakfast dish in the sink, walking over to the front door to grab her sweater and her large canvas bag. “Hope you two have fun hanging out today! There’s a great beach nearby that you boys should go to if you have the time. I’ve got to run, take care now!” Iwaizumi and Oikawa hear the final few clacks of her shoes as she shuts the screen door behind her and walks down the steps of the front porch towards her car. They hear her engine start and then she’s off.

“God, you really are a putz” mutters Iwaizumi, lightly smacking the back of Tooru’s head.

“Not my fault you don’t know how to talk to women, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says as he attempts to dodge Iwazumi, but ultimately failing.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and gets up from his chair. He didn’t feel like bickering with Oikawa today. He was in too good of a mood, plus he really wanted to go somewhere with Oikawa to play volleyball anyways.

“Sooooo Iwa-channn what’s on the agenda for today?” Oikawa asks. He stands up from his chair and stretches out his tall torso, his arms almost touching the bottom of the fan in the kitchen.

“Wanna do a practice match somewhere?”

“Hmmm. Yes, but I also wanted to check out that beach Auntie mentioned. Not like we really have a beach back home.”

“Why don’t we do both? We can set up a court once we find a good spot.” Iwaizumi suggested.

“Ohhh a beach match? You’re on, mothman.”

Iwaizumi let out a small, soft “Dumbass” under his breath, then quickly up the stairs to grab their duffels, Oikawa slowly following up after him.

* * *

Oikawa’s high-pitched falsetto voice pierces Iwaizumi’s ears while he tries to keep concentrating on the windy road in front of him. He sings out another lyric of the weird country song that they happened to discover on the local radio a few minutes ago.

“ _Joooooooooooleeeenne, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Puh-LEASE don’t take my maaannn. Even though you totally caaannn-“_ Oikawa drawls out in a feminine, old-lady voice, intentionally fucking up the lyrics.

Iwaizumi lets out another round of loud, barking laughter. He forgot how genuinely funny Oikawa can be once he lets his guard down. But that usually only happens when it’s just the two of them together. He scrunches up his eyes, tears of laughter pricking at the outer edges of his eyelids. He’s laughing and smiling so much that his jaw is starting to get sore. “S-stop it you bastard, you’re gonna make me crash this damn car.”

Oikawa grins over at Iwaizumi, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He turns back forward and smiles quickly to himself. He absolutely loves Iwaizumi’s laugh. The sound never gets old. “Damn, what a stupid song. Who the _fuck_ is Jolene??”

“I don’t-“ Iwaizumi tries to respond but is stopped by another round of laughter. “I don’t know man, but she’s got some issues apparently. I feel kind of bad for her, honestly.”

“Eh, not bad enough,” Oikawa grins. “Since when does Japan have American country stations? Is this a new fad or some shit?”

“I have no idea.”

“Oh, Iwa-chan, there’s the turn up ahead!” Oikawa says hurriedly, leaning forward in his seat.

Iwaizumi turns off the main route onto another small, dusty dirt road. As they make a couple more turns, the truck spits up dust.

“Oh wow, is this _sand_?” Oikawa tries to squint through the yellowish haze.

“I guess so. We must be close.”

They head around a row of trees and then make one final turn. Iwaizumi parks in one of the faded parking spots, then kills the engine. It doesn’t take too long to unpack the bed of the truck. With both duffel bags slung around Iwaizumi and Oikawa carrying the net bag, they walk down a sandy path to the beach below.

They find a good, flat area of sand and throw down their bags. Iwaizumi sets up the volleyball net while Oikawa takes off his flip flops. He unpacks the volleyballs, water bottles, and snacks.

“Hey, ‘kawa, the net’s done.”

“Lit.”

Iwaizumi throws the net bag down near the duffels and Oikawa takes a couple minutes to mark the edges of each side of the court using a stick. He squints at the line on each side, then runs over to the other side to check the dimensions.

“It’s fine, Oikawa. Let’s play already.” Iwaizumi drawls.

“Fine, fine.” Oikawa takes his sunglasses off and perches them neatly in his hair. He picks a light blue volleyball up from the ground and walks onto his side of the court. Iwaizumi’s already on his side, hands on his knees, ready for Oikawa to start. Using only one hand, Oikawa swiftly throws the ball high up in the air. “You know I’m totally gonna win this match, right?”

Iwaizumi snorts and smirks at Oikawa through the holes of the net. “Not on your life, pretty boy.”

* * *

Soaring through the air over the net, the small blue volleyball heads toward Iwaizumi’s side of the court. With the quickness of a puma and the grace of a warrior, the spiky-haired male crouches down and receives the ball. The volleyball bounces back upwards, over Iwaizumi’s head and the boy looks up. He ends up timing the comedown of the ball perfectly, executing a three step approach. Calf muscles tensing, Iwaizumi swings his arms back and jumps up in the air. With a look of fierceness set in his face, eyes gleaming, his right arm whips forward and sends the ball flying straight down towards Oikawa’s side.

Oikawa dives forward and manages to keep the ball up, but only enough to the point where it flys forward underneath the net. His sunglasses fall down crookedly onto the bridge of his nose. He groans. He almost got a mouthful of sand from this last one.

Iwaizumi let’s out a snicker, “What was that about beating me again?” He grins, watching Oikawa pick his lanky frame up off the sand.

Dammit. Oikawa was _sure_ his past spike wouldn’t turn into a chance ball, but somehow Iwaizumi managed to receive and turn it into a downward attack. He watches Iwaizumi take off his shirt through the lenses of his sunglasses. Iwaizumi grabs his water bottle and takes a long drink of water, other hand resting on his hip.

What a cocky bastard. Oikawa mentally convinces himself that he’s _not_ taking this moment to run his eyes down the frame of Iwaizumi’s body. Nope. Definitely _not_ taking in his wonderful, tan shoulders, sharp angles of his collarbones, his stocky biceps, and of course that stupid lovely six pack- What the _hell?_ When did Iwa-chan get so buff?? Has he been doing extra strength training on the side or something?

“Ready to get your ass whooped again, Shittykawa?” calls out Iwaizumi.

Oikawa dusts the sand off his knees, sweat dripping down his bangs into his face. He takes a few ragged breaths. “You fuckin wish, biiiitttcchh.”

Iwaizumi is about to make a retort when he notices Oikawa’s fast panting, his chest heaving in and out to try and steady his breathing back to normal. His hair is drenched, his shirt covered in sweat. Oikawa glance down worriedly at the wrap on his knee, reminding Iwaizumi of his past injury. He hastily looks at his watch.

“On second thought, you look pretty tired, Tooru. It’s getting close to dinnertime anyways. Let’s call it a match and pack up, yeah?”

Oikawa lets out an annoyed huff, rolling his eyes, but then concedes.

* * *

They arrive back home, laughing about another funny joke Oikawa said when they were on the road. Iwaizumi and Oikawa tramp up the porch steps and through the screen door, both letting out relaxed sighs when the air conditioning hits them. They head towards the kitchen counter. Iwaizumi turns around and tosses his water bottle quickly to Oikawa, Oikawa wordlessly catching it in his hand.

“Take this back up to the room, then we can go to the market and get some food. I’ll make dinner tonight if you want.”

“Uh…sure Iwa-chan.” He replies, hurrying up the stairs in a daze.

He sets both he and Iwaizumi’s water bottles on top of the dresser in their room. He takes a minute for himself, grabbing a towel and running it through his locks of hair to get the sweat out. He’s about to head out of the room when his eyes naturally find their gaze to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. He walks closer to his reflection, placing the towel around his neck.

Oikawa inspects his appearance in the mirror. Eyebrows knitted together, he turns his face to either side, looking at his cheekbones. His wide, almond shaped brown eyes. His thin lips, still nicely rounded out for a guy’s mouth. He had okay teeth, straight and not too big.

_“Iwa-chan’s still prettier though,”_ he thought.

He shakes his head to try and regain focus. Bounding down the stairs to meet Iwaizumi, he realizes he left his flips flops somewhere in the living room.

“Almost done Oikawa? I’m starving, we should head out now.” Iwaizumi calls from the kitchen.

“One second!” Oikawa answers. He’s slipping his toes through his sandals he found underneath the coffee table when something black and shiny catches his eyes. _“Auntie’s binder?”_

He reaches over and slowly slides the binder towards him. He opens to a random tab and somehow manages to get to the exact design that’s supposed to be what he’s wearing for the show tomorrow. Running his fingertips over the drawing of his figure, it finally dawns on him. His eyes widen and snap up from the book. _“I’ve figured it out! I know what I need to do!”_

“Seriously Shittykawa let’s-,” Iwaizumi walks over and stops to see Oikawa staring at the designs, “go…”

Oikawa quickly looks up at him from his sitting position on the floor. “Oh Iwa-chan, uh-“ Iwaizumi notices his eyes flit away from him for a couple of seconds. It looks like he’s trying to come up with something to say. “Right, about dinner…uh, could you go on without me? I uh, have a stomach. I’ll just stay here. Pick out whatever, okay?”

His wide orbs stare up at him nervously and Iwaizumi knows he made that last part up. “Sure….if that’s what you want…” he narrows his eyes at Oikawa. He just knows the little shit’s up to something.

“It is, now please goooo Iwa-chaaann. Out, out, out!” Oikawa pushes him happily out the door, tossing his truck keys to him.

When Iwaizumi’s finally gone, Oikawa sighs heavily and looks up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was already 5pm. He does some quick math in his head, trying to see if he had enough time to leave and come back before Iwaizumi got back home. It would probably take Iwaizumi about 20 minutes or so to get to the market Hisako had told them about.

_“There’s no way I can make it all the way into town and back without the chance of Iwa-chan knowing I was gone. Hm. Unless….yes of course! I’ll use that shortcut!”_

He grabs the house keys, changes into his running shoes, and sprints out the door. Instead of running alongside the road all the way into town like he usually would, he hops a small fence and takes a shortcut through the neighbor’s small forest. He ends up running through a wide barley field, the sun beating down on him in waves and his body starting to get sweaty all over again. The leaves of the plants in the field scrape against his calves but Tooru pays it no mind. He makes his way down to a large road on the corner of town. Once he crosses one of the main roads, he’s able to slip behind the main buildings and into a suburb which he knows will lead him to where he needs to be.

He passes the last house in the long, narrow neighborhood street and makes another turn, leading to a small set of offices. He runs through the bronze double doors and takes the elevator up to the fifth floor, leaning back against the wall of the elevator to finally catch his breath. The door opens to a bright white hallway, giant black and white photos of models striking dramatic poses in different outfits line the walls. He gets to the end of the hallway and fast-walks into his aunt’s studio space. He scans the area and spots Hisako standing near her desk with two colleague, leaning down and pointing to a areas on a printed photo with her pen.

“Oh, Oikawa dear, I’m quite surprised to see you here. Where’s your friend, Hajime?” she asks curiously.

Oikawa takes a deep breath, wringing his hands in front of him. “Yeah, about Iwa-chan… Auntie, I need you to help me out with a _huge_ favor.”

* * *

A/N Yooooo...Oikawa got it baaaddd. I mean it already sucks having a crush on your childhood best friend but to have him turn into a hottie when you were looking the other way? Ow...the poor bastard. But what's Oikawa planning?? Guess you'll have to wait til next chapter to find out!

Thanks so much for reading my fic and if you got this far, please leave a like or a comment. This is my first haikyuu fic so feedback is welcome! Be gentle though, lol. 

Also I have a tumblr! It's [here](https://elotheweeb.tumblr.com/) Check it out if you like anime series like Haikyuu, BSD, Yuri on Ice, K, Studio Ghibli, etc. I don't bite! 

-Elo


	3. Part 3. "The Stuttering of a Butterfly's Wings"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the fashion show finally arrives. Poor Iwa-chan, he really doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, I finally updated, it's been wayyy too long.. Not beta-read (way too impatient for that shit) so just keep that in mind but I did go through it myself and gave it a once over. Enjoyyyy ╰(*°▽°*)╯

PART 3

_“Okay, I’ve got the rice, the chicken, the eggs…”_ Iwaizumi mentally checks off his grocery list inside his head. “ Wandering slowly through each aisle in the tiny indoor market which is much too cramped with food for its respective size, he walks back around to the produce section. Some vegetables should be in order. If making the weekend meals were up to Tooru every time they hung out, that kid would never include greens in his diet. He grabs a stalk of spinach along with a couple onions and pays for his purchase.

Juggling the bags of groceries in his arms, he unlocks his truck, then scoots the paper bags over to Oikawa’s usual spot. He hops up into the seat, turning the engine on. The sun slowly sets over the horizon. The truck climbs up the hill and Iwaizumi leans back, his eyes taking in the explosion of pink and orange rays dripping down from the sky. It was uncomfortably quiet without Tooru in the vehicle. He knows his best friend would have made the ride at least a little entertaining. Oikawa would probably turn the whole event into a production, cracking jokes about other teams like Shiritoriza or Karasuno and then blasting the stereo to sing along with whatever awful country song happened to be on the local radio station right this second.

Finally, up ahead, Iwaizumi spots the turn leading back to Hisako’s house.

Juggling the groceries yet again in his arms after he gets out the truck, he uses his elbow to unlatch the handle of the screen door.

“’Kawa, I’m home!” he yells loud enough so Oikawa could hear it throughout the house even if he’s upstairs in their room. Iwaizumi lets out a yawn and sets the groceries down on the kitchen counter.

_“Where is that loser?”_ Hajime rolls his eyes and sets out to figure where the other boy ran off to.

He comes to a stop at the entrance to the back porch, finally have managed to locate the tall brunette. “Uh, why are you so… _sweaty_ Oikawa?”

“Ohmygod.” Oikawa spins around wildly, eyes widening to the sudden sound of Iwaizumi’s voice. “ His right hand pushes into the area between the bottom of his rib and the top of his waist, slightly keeled over. “Shit, don’t sneak up on me like that!” he says.

Iwaizumi shrugs, “Sorry,” not sounding the least bit apologetic. He walks closer to the other male, brow furrowing. “Jesus, were you out running a marathon or something?”

Oikawa, knowing that Hajime is very close to the truth in that regard, feigns overconfidence. “Oh Iwa-chan, why do you always feel the need to assume the worst in me?” He straightens his torso, throwing his shoulders back, looking over to Iwaizumi. “Of course I wasn’t anywhere but right here, out in the garden, petting Auntie’s cat and watching the clouds go by.” He comes up with the lie on the spot, acting as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world.

“You have sweat dripping down your entire face, Shittykawa. Explain that.”

There’s a brief moment of panic as Oikawa tries very quickly to come up with something else. “Yes, because… well, because…” He lets out a short huff of breath. “I was doing a few, uh, pushups, and uh, some cardio to keep up my lovely physique. And then I saw a wasp. And it was huge, and it started chasing me. So I had to-“ He eyes flit to the right again, “run back in to the house, grab a broom and kill it. A few seconds before you came back, actually.”

Iwaizumi squints his eyes, looking at Oikawa as if he’d just explained why Ushijima from Shiratorizawa was better than him in every way, shape, and form.

“You saw. A wasp.”

Oikawa is already up the steps walking back into the living room when he responds. “Yes, Iwa-chan! Nothing more! Now let’s make some dinner before I starve to death. You’ve been out for soooooo loong.”

There’s isn’t a doubt in Iwaizumi’s mind that everything that came out of Oikawa’s mouth just now was a lie. But goddamn, the kid was trying, _very_ hard. He figures he’ll let it go. For now.

They end up making Oyakodon with spinach for dinner. Oikawa happily slurps down his bowl while Hajime looks back at him, a gentle gaze resting on his face.

As Iwaizumi sets up his futon for the night, he runs through all the different scenarios in his mind. Somehow, some way, whatever Oikawa’s planning is bound to happen tomorrow. Knowing his luck, that is.

* * *

*Sunday*

Oikawa Tooru has always been a born schemer. Ever since middle school, he’s succeeded in dragging Iwaizumi into any and all dramatic and experimental elements of his life. He supposes volleyball was the inciting incident that set his best friend into motion. Once he realized how much a simple manipulation of truth affected most outcomes, he saw scheming as his own personal compass, leading him into an unfathomable amount of good, but also bad situations. Come to think of it, Iwaizumi isn’t sure if there’s _ever_ been a time where he hasn’t been included in Tooru’s plans.

This fact alone is probably the reason that Iwaizumi’s stomach is currently doing somersaults. Not the good kind either.

Oikawa walks out of the bathroom connected to the guest room. There’s a towel looped around the back of his neck and his hair is longer now that it’s damp. His eyes set on Iwaizumi from underneath his bangs. For a few seconds, Tooru’s expression feels like pure innocence.

“Bathroom’s free.” He is so quiet. _Too_ quiet. Not a good sign.

They get ready in silence. The awkward and nervous energy surrounds them, spread out through the entire room. Oikawa throws on a teal V-neck shirt and hops into a pair of light wash skinny jeans.

_“Guess today’s the day. I should probably say something to him…”_

“Sooo…” Hajime starts out, “Are you nervous? For your…” he searches for the words, “part today?”

Oikawa finishes fluffing his bangs in the mirror then turns towards Iwaizumi, leaning against the side of the dresser, his elbow resting on the top. “Of course not,” he raises an eyebrow at Iwaizumi, “Why would I be?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t really know how to answer that so he clumsily continues on. “Okay,” He scratches the back of head, “you just seem pretty quiet is all.”

Oikawa shrugs, about to head out of the room. He stops to rest his lanky frame against the side of the doorframe, folding his arms, tilting up his chin, his intense stare seeping into Hajime’s very core. “You should wear that hoodie more often, Iwa-chan. It brings out your eyes.”

And without another word, he’s gone, already halfway down the stairs once Iwaizumi finishes attempting to come up with some sort of response other than a choked stutter.

Sure enough, the car ride is even more quiet. They’re both sitting in the backseat of Hisako’s car looking out the window of their respective sides. She offered to drive them both to the show, not wanting Iwaizumi to waste gas as they were all headed to the same place anyways. It’s obvious that Oikawa’s aunt notices the strange tension in the air because she takes it upon herself to happily recount more tales of her career. This time she’s excitedly talking about her colleagues. They’re mostly only funny stories, so Iwaizumi knows she’s trying to defuse the thick, dense uncomfortableness floating in the air.

Tooru only responds to her chatter with the simple acknowledgements like “Hmm, that’s nice,” or “how interesting, Auntie.” Iwaizumi doesn’t even attempt that much.

“Well,” Hisako says, her tone sounding a little deflated, “it seems as if you two are a million miles away right now.” She spots her turn and proceeds into the parking lot of the modern looking-warehouse space. “But no matter. We’re here now! This is the space we’re using for the fashion show! I can’t wait for you two to see the inside.”

They walk in and Oikawa notes that the warehouse looks even bigger from the inside. There’s about sixty rows of empty black folding chairs surrounding the runway. The interior has grey brick walls on every side and portions of ivy strung have been strung down from sections of the walls. The runway itself was a sleek, glass runway, with lights lined up on the floor of either side of the catwalk. Partially visible lights were also hidden underneath the glass. Other light instruments are nestled into the far corner walls of the warehouse, aimed towards the main event. Attached to the either side of the elevated runway are street signs arranged in a zig-zag pattern, each one sprouting up at various heights. Wires hang down from the ceiling over the rest of the audience’s space. Attached to these wires are multiple metropolitan advertisements that could very well have been replicas of much larger ones found in Tokyo, the edges of each sign lined in some sort of taped wiring. Oikawa was pretty impressed with the scale of the event, to say the least.

Hisako smiles knowingly at the Oikawa’s reaction. “Glad you’re impressed with the venue. It’ll look even more crazy once the house lights go down and everything’s lit up.”

She guides Oikawa and Iwaizumi around the army of folding chairs, past a set of speakers, and through a door that leads to the backstage area. She stops and turns to them once they reach a set of white double doors with silver handles.

“Alright, so, unfortunately, this is as far as I go. I already received a pager call from my assistant saying that they need help with one of the model’s outfits in the other room, so I’ll have to leave you two here for now. Tooru, do you have any other questions for me before the show starts?”

Oikawa shrugs with a casual shake of his head. “Nope, everything seems pretty clear to me.”

Hisako nods at him and then gives him a hug. “Alright, well have fun darlings! I’ll see you two after the show!” She gives them a delicate wave, and then with a swish of her skirt, she strolls back towards the direction they originally came from.

Oikawa looks over at Iwaizumi. “Guess we should knock before we go in.”

Just as he raises his knuckles to the door, it opens. A tall, stern looking woman with baby pink hair and leopard print glasses opens the door and greets them, letting them inside. She beckons them in and instructs them to follow her. Many other models are seated around the multiple rows of makeup mirrors, with a large main row situated on the outer rim of the room and two more smaller rows shoved back-to-back in the center. The pink-haired lady shows them to their chairs, jotting their names down on her clipboard and leaving as soon as they both sit down.

Oikawa surveys the area around him. “Wonder why they brought me here first instead of wardrobe…?”

It was meant to be a rhetorical question, so Oikawa was slightly startled when one of the models sitting next to him turned around in her chair and answered.

“They usually prefer we go to makeup first so they can set it. They only send us to wardrobe 15 minutes before the show starts so there’s a better chance of people not accidentally staining their outfit with food or something while they wait.” She turns back to the makeup artist currently trying to work on her foundation.

Most of the makeup artists are already busy trying to finish up makeup for the first wave of models who arrived earlier, so Oikawa and Iwaizumi talk while they wait. They kill time chatting about school related things; what Maki and Mattsun are probably up to right this second, the strategies for the next upcoming volleyball matches, and how much homework they still have to do once they get home later in the evening. 

Eventually, Oikawa lets out a bored yawn, leaning back in his makeup chair and stretching out his mile-long legs. He ends up accidentally resting his feet on top of Iwaizumi’s shoes, but Hajime doesn’t seem to mind.

But Iwaizumi’s quickly pulled out of his cool demeanor once Oikawa squawks, “Be right back. Bathroom.”

He zips out of his chair like it’s a life or death decision and disappears around the row of mirrors, Iwaizumi not even managing to make a response as Oikawa slips out the double doors.

“Um….okay…that was fucking weird.” he mutters under his breath.

He lets out an annoyed sigh and scoots his best friend’s chair closer to him. Guess he has a footrest until Oikawa gets back.

The spiky-haired boy has his head hanging over the back of the chair, about to take a small catnap when he’s abruptly broken out of his reverie by the sound of an authoritative, feminine voice.

“Oikawa dear, _there_ you are!” a dark-skinned woman wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck and a pencil skirt with a huge shoulder bag strides towards him. She immediately goes to the mirror in front of Iwaizumi and rolls out an entire array of makeup brushes, not wasting a second of time.

Iwaizumi shoots out of his chair as fast as Tooru did ten minutes ago and frantically looks down at the short woman. “No-no-no-, sorry ma’am, but you’ve got it wrong, I’m not-“

The lady lets out a sigh, “Please dear, I’ve just been informed by your aunt herself that we need to get your makeup on stat and then take you to wardrobe to get fitted. Hisako will get _very_ annoyed if I’m not able to do my job and we start running behind schedule. So sit, sit, please!” She says all of this at lightning fast speed to the point where Hajime finds himself slowly sitting back down due to the makeup artist’s authoritative insistence and the sheer stress of it all.

No situation he and Oikawa had ever gone through in their past would have prepared him for something like…this. His stomach starts curling up in knots, mimicking the ball of stress his brain is currently in. He really doesn’t know what to do.

And where the _fuck_ was Oikawa? He should be back by now, chatting away to both Iwaizumi and the makeup artist as she attempts to get him to sit still for his foundation.

“Uh, ma’am,” he starts, trying very hard to emulate the same energy Oikawa might use to both charm and persuade someone, “if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind telling me what exact description Hisako gave for her nephew?”

He chooses his words carefully, so it wouldn’t seem like he was trying to question her authority on the matter.

The woman sponges on Iwaizumi’s (or what is supposed to be Oikawa’s) concealer. She gives another impatient sigh at his question, never mind his polite tones.

“Ms. Hisako said, and I quote, ‘My nephew, whom you’ll be putting on makeup for, has short, spiky black hair, tan skintones, and green eyes.’ I have no idea why you’re asking me this.”

“No reason.” Iwaizumi mumbled sheepishly.

He’s tempted to duck his head down out of sheer embarrassment, then restrains himself. Guess he’ll have to sit still if she’s working on his face.

For now, that is.

* * *

Letting out a bored sigh, the tall boy leans against the wall of the cramped and dingy room. With his back pressed against the plaster, Oikawa bends his legs and slides down onto the cold concrete floor. Taking the time to observe his surroundings, he finally leans over and takes his phone out of his pocket. He clicked the button that wakes his phone’s lockscreen.

_*Iwa-chan*(❁´◡`❁): Oi, where the hell did you run off to?_

_*Iwa-chan*(❁´◡`❁):Seriously Tooru quit fucking around._

_*Iwa-chan* (❁´◡`❁):Dude wtf these people think I’m you??? I’ve tried explaining that you went off somewhere but I’m already trapped…_

_*Iwa-chan*(❁´◡`❁):Seriously?? Is this supposed to be some sort of practical joke or something?_

_*Iwa-chan*(❁´◡`❁):You better pray there’s a god up there, Shittykawa._

Oikawa finishes scanning through the tirade of Iwaizumi’s angry messages. He bites his lip nervously. He knows Iwaizumi would know something’s up, but that last message made it seem like his best friend was about to go on the hunt for him.

But no matter. Iwa-chan would never think to find him in a janitor’s closet of all places. There’s so many doors backstage and down this hallway that, even if Iwaizumi got out of dressing room unseen (and that was a big if), he’d probably never spare this room a second glance.

At least, these are the marginally comforting thoughts that float through Oikawa’s mind when the door to the closet is wrenched open from the outside.

“Ah!” Oikawa squeaks, his heart jumping up into his throat. His startled jump causes his phone to fling into the air.

Iwaizumi zeroes in on the brunette crouched in the corner, juggling his phone in the dark. Panicked hands betray him and the phone slips through his fingers. Iwaizumi’s glare fills the entire room and everything is terrifyingly quiet save for the sharp cracking noise as Oikawa’s phone finally hits the floor.

“Iwa-chan. Uh, hi…” Oikawa scrambles to come up with something, anything. “Didn’t expect you to get out of hair and makeup so quickly.”

Iwaizumi was _done._ He was done with this stupid day, he was done with the ridiculousness of this entire situation, but most of all, he was _done_ with being fed the constant look of surprise on his best friend’s face, as if he hadn’t taken any and all measures to plan this shit from the start.

It was these exact boiling, rage-filled thoughts that finally drive him over the edge.

“Get up.” He snarls, grabbing Oikawa’s shirt and yanking him up to a standing position. “Get up and look me in the eyes for once in your life, you little shit.”

Oikawa slowly lifts his face up to meet Iwaizumi’s steaming gaze. He lets out a singular involuntary shiver. There’s this intense, absolute blind fury in the boy’s eyes and Oikawa has to physically force himself not to wince.

“Hajime,” he starts out in a tense whisper, “I can explain-“

Iwaizumi barks out a sarcastic scoff. “Oh sure, Tooru, _please._ Explain. Explain why you skulked off 20 minutes ago lying about needing to take a piss and then seconds later this random lady strolls in swearing on her career that I’m _you._ All the while she’s attacking me with fuckin’ brushes and hair gel and whatever _this_ shit is-“ He furiously gestures to his now-closed eyes, and Oikawa finally notices the fairly pigmented silver eyeshadow that’s dusted on. “-so please, Shittykawa, do me the courtesy of explaining why even your own aunt is somehow involved in all this.”

“Fine, okay,” the brunette croaks, “You win, you’ve figured it out.” Oikawa’s surprised stare switches to a more pleading look. “But first just please let go of me. You’re kind of freaking me out, Hajimie.”

Iwaizumi sees the stress that flashes in his best friend’s face. Looking down, he realizes he still has a fistful of Oikawa’s shirt in his hand. Oikawa’s back is completely pressed against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, letting go of Oikawa and taking a step back. He should probably give the guy some room. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Oikawa just answers him with a half-hearted smile, a silent communication to him that he’s already forgiven.

“Look Iwa-chan. This whole thing… I just wanted you to get the chance to be in the spotlight for once. I…wanted you to have fun.”

Iwaizumi folds his arms, still looking pretty cross. “Have fun? I’m just supposed to be all calm and cool with you pulling a cruel prank on me? You were seriously just gonna ditch me and have me walk into that room full of people looking like an idiot?”

The spiky-haired boy turns away, not even able to deal with Oikawa’s arrogant face right now.

He grits his teeth. “You sure have a sick sense of humor, Tooru.”

And then it dawns on him. Jaw agape, eyebrows shooting upwards, Oikawa inches closer towards the boy. He bites his lip and reaches tentatively towards Hajime’s back. Iwaizumi’s spine visibly stiffens as he feels Oikawa’s fingers gently rest on his shoulder.

“You really thought that this was all just some horrible plot to humiliate you?” Oikawa’s voice, usually loud and self-assured, takes on a more gentle tone, one Iwaizumi hadn’t heard him use since they were in middle school.

“Oh, Iwa-chan…”

Iwaizumi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. In the cramped, dimly lit closet, Oikawa sees that Iwaizumi’s turned back towards him now. His arms are still folded, but he looks much less tense. Only a slightly annoyed expression now rests on his face.

Oikawa takes that as his cue and starts his full explanation. “Do you remember Friday, when we were sitting in your truck? And we had gotten into that argument?”

He sees Hajime give one slow, silent nod and then he continues.

“I remember what you said, about being…jealous of me. How everyone comments on my looks but never on yours and I just-“ he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in for so long, “-I wanted you to have a chance to see yourself the way I see you.”

He ducks his head down, staring at the floor, suddenly feeling very afraid of what Hajime might think. Maybe this wasn’t the right time or place to be talking about all this.

Seconds tick by but it feels like a millennium. Finally he hears a rustle and shuffle of feet and Hajime’s right in front of him, his face now moved fully into the dim light. Tooru stares hypnotically into the silver-rimmed orbs of Hajime’s eyes. Hajime stares right back.

“And how do you see me, Tooru?” Iwaizumi asks quietly, with a quick, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, eyes still completely fixed on Oikawa.

Shit. He’d done it now. It was as if Hajime had set up a trap of truth and he’d somehow caught Tooru without even realizing it himself.

 _Just say it you dumbass._ He mentally urged himself to keep going. He’s sure Hajime wouldn’t take it that seriously anyways. Either that, or he’d totally kick his ass. Oikawa supposed that he would have to be fine with both options.

His voice comes out in a soft, strained whisper. “Iwa-chan, I’ve never met anyone else like you, _ever,_ in my life. You’re like… a guardian angel, a gladiator, and a Michelangelo painting all rolled into one person.” He forces himself to match Hajime’s stare, his voice getter stronger now. “You’re handsome, pretty, brave, intelligent, stunning…beautiful.”

He breathes out those last words at a much slower pace than the rest then looks away, cursing his stupid face for the blush creeping up to his neck and cheeks. “I don’t know why you can’t see that for yourself.”

He waits for Iwaizumi to make one of his typical, sarcastic remarks, or for him to smack him upside the head like he usually does when Oikawa does something stupid or reckless. But it never happens.

Instead, Oikawa see a deep recognition flash in his shadowy eyes.

It’s at this exact moment that Oikawa’s brain registers that Hajime is standing _way_ too close to him for it to be considered “a casual chat.” He can easily count every one of the other boy’s long black lashes as he looks up at him through half-lidded eyes. He sees the metallic sheen of the smoky eyeshadow while Iwaizumi’s gaze travels slowly from Tooru’s eyes down to his lips.

“You sure you really mean all that, Tooru?” Hajime’s voice takes on a huskier tone, one that Oikawa is sure he’s never heard before.

And he’s _absolutely_ sure there’s a definite extra layer to this conversation when Hajime reaches up, catches Oikawa’s jaw between his fingers, and says:

“Cause it would be devastating if it ended up being just another one of your lies.”

Oikawa has never felt this complete, magnetic, _energy_ before, this pull of roaring, barely restrained affection for someone. It would have been suffocating if not for the feeling of his heart soaring. The million little butterflies fluttering around in his stomach merging into one huge monarch, and with every flap of its wings it grew stronger, flying upward until he could feels its majestic, assuring wings brushing against his chest, guiding the erratic pulse of his own heartbeat.

The door to the closet was wrenched open from the outside yet again. This time the person who opened it was Hisako.

Her stunned face and hand frozen on the doorknob were the main thing that pulled Oikawa out of his current revelation. 

The monarch butterfly came crashing back down into the depths of his stomach.

Hajime’s toes were practically stepping on Oikawa’s. That, and his hand still clasping his jaw were definite indicators that the two were _way_ too close to one another for it to just look like an accident.

“Oh. Iwaizumi dear, there you are…” Oikawa’s aunt had a very confused look on her face, eyes flitting back and forth between the two best friends.

Oikawa awkwardly cleared his throat and Hajime quickly stepped away, crossing his arms into himself. Tooru wanted to scream out that it was _okay,_ that he was more than willing to let Iwa-chan touch him. But now wasn’t the time.

“Auntie! Hi!” He’s annoyed at how falsely cheerful his voice sounds.

Hisako glanced over at Hajime worriedly, most likely noticing his half-dressed state and unfinished makeup. “Is everything alright with you two?”

“Of course, Auntie,” Oikawa answered quickly. “Uhm, I just wanted to make sure Iwa-chan was doing okay. I’m sorry, could you give us a moment? I know the show’s starting soon, I promise it’ll be quick.”

He willed the pleading look in his eyes to register through to her.

His aunt, though still very befuddled, gave a slow nod. “Sure. I’ll just be- er, back in the dressing room.”

She went back towards the hallway in a daze.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi waited for Hisako’s footsteps to fade off into the distance before even daring to glance at one another.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t realize that was gonna happen…” Iwaizumi muttered, staring at the ground again.

Oikawa shook his head impatiently. He wasn’t sure if Iwa-chan was referring to the door being opened or the fact that not five seconds before that, Hajime was practically on top of him, caressing his face. The answer would have to wait til later. He needed to fix the other situation at hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Look, Iwa-chan… I was being stupid before, I-“ he nervously wrung his hands out in front of him. “-you don’t have to go through with this.” He gritted his teeth in frustration, purely directed at himself. He could feel his eyes pricking at the outer corners, a sure sign of tears to come. God, he needed to stop talking, for both their sakes, but he was way too worked up. Of course he somehow managed to make this whole ordeal about himself, the opposite of what he should be doing-

His panicked thoughts are soon interrupted by one of Iwaizumi’s famously reassuring shoulder squeezes.

“You really don’t ever know when to shut up, do you?”

“But-“

“I’ll do it.”

Oikawa gaped at him. “What? Hajime, ten minutes ago you said this was the stupidest thing in the world-“

“-Well that was ten minutes ago, wasn’t it?”

Oikawa was dumbfounded. Even more so when Hajime roughly pulled him into a hug.

“I think I understand now.” Iwa-chan mumbled into the crook of Oikawa’s neck. The other boy’s breath was sending these heavenly tickles against his pulse and it was making it _extremely_ hard to concentrate. Still, he had to try. He shut his mouth, closed his eyes, and waited for Hajime’s next words.

“This entire time I just thought you were pulling one of your dumbass stunts. You’ve had me convinced for so long that everything you’ve done, everything we’ve been through…was about you. I see now that I’ve got it backwards.” His laugh made Oikawa’s hear race all over again.

“Ya know Tooru, for someone who acts so dramatic and cocky all the time, I really wasn’t expecting you to be this selfless.”

Oikawa squeezed him harder after that.

“Yeah, well. Get used to it.”

* * *

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Oikawa asked Iwaizumi again as they headed back to the dressing room.

“I figured it’s an even trade, after what you admitted to me back there,” Hajime shrugged, turning towards the brunette. “Besides, it might even be fun. I won’t know til I try, right?”

Oikawa nodded in response and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the dressing room doors.

He gave Hajime a sheepish grin. “Right, well I better go. Good luck, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s hand softly caught Oikawa’s wrist as he turned to leave.

“Promise you’ll be there? I’m not going out there unless I know for sure.”

Tooru pulled him into one final hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Iwa-chan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *screeches* The pining finally comes to an ennnnddd. But the fluff is just beginninggg! No worries fam, this is the second last section of the story so of course they'll get to together before the end. 
> 
> Next chapter is the actual run of the show, the aftermath, and the adoreableness of them both finally admitting their feelings for one another!   
> Stay tuneed! Like most other writers, I'm not gonna make any promises on when the next chapter will come out. It'll happen when it happens lol so I would bookmark this if you need notifications on.
> 
> Another thing, sorry I was MIA for so long. Long story short, school sucks and i had to focus on that stuff for a while. I just now had the energy to pick up this story again this past week but I'm so glad I did cause now y'all can read it!
> 
> As always, if you've read this far please leave a kudos or comment telling me what you think! It really does help me out a lot and it would probably inspire me to write the last chapter a little faster. You can follow me on tumblr and twitter!   
> Tumblr: @elo-kodon ; Twitter: @ElotheFairy  
> See ya later! Kisses! xxx


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